A Game For Grown Ups
by St. Harridan
Summary: Yachiru wants to know what game her Ken-chan and Ukki are playing in the bedroom.


When Kenpachi returned to the barracks and saw his fellow shinigami captain standing by the sink, washing his hands, he had wasted no time in grabbing hold of him and sweeping him off his feet.

Fortunately, Yachiru had rushed upstairs to her room once Kenpachi told her to go to bed, and as the sound of the door closing behind her heels reached him, he instantaneously slung the protesting man over his shoulder, ran up the stairs, taking three steps at a time, burst into his bedroom and kicked the door shut behind him.

"Put – me – down – _Zaraki_!" Kenpachi could only laugh at Jushiro's vain attempts to release himself. His legs flailed uselessly in the air, unconsciously giving Kenpachi a chance to peek up his hakama at the white, immaculate fundoshi.

The fundoshi that would soon be ripped off just so he could pursue his exploits.

"Alrighty." With a huff, Kenpachi dropped Jushiro onto the bed, took his wrists and pinned them above his head. "Ye asked for it, old man." No sooner had he said that, no sooner had his lips twisted into that oh so familiar manic grin, Kenpachi tugged the folds of Jushiro's shihakusho wide open, ripped off his obi, and dove down to claim his prize. His tongue flicked at Jushiro's nipple, trailed all the way up his chest to his throat. He pressed his dry, chapped lips to Jushiro's collarbone, sucked, biting when Jushiro's strained moans escalated in volume.

He smirked to himself, nipping at Jushiro's earlobe – he sure wasn't going to protest any longer. Years of being with the older captain had steeled him, equipped him with skills that was useful in such situations. Now, he didn't really have to think twice about what to do if he wanted to have Jushiro all to himself.

"Damn it, Zaraki," Jushiro muttered through gritted teeth just as Kenpachi tore the hakama right off him without his consent, "can't you…can't you _wait_? I was just fixing din-"

"I don't need dinner." Kenpachi reached up a hand to push him back down to the mattress, growling through Jushiro's fundoshi that he had between his teeth. "'Sides, me and Yachiru just had something to eat an hour ago."

"Well, _I _haven't," Jushiro smacked Kenpachi's hand away, only to have the front of his uniform grasped and pulled forward, "and I'd been planning on having dinner with the two of you. And your division, if they don't mind."

"We can do that later." Kenpachi, eyes never leaving Jushiro's, began to nibble through his fundoshi. Jushiro could only watch, transfixed, and Kenpachi sneered as he trailed his tongue over the white cloth, grazed over it with his teeth using just enough pressure to come in slight contact with what lay underneath. Kenpachi could feel Jushiro's cock twitch, hard as it strained against the folds of the undergarment. He was tempted to take hold of it and lick it all the way up to its head, but he refrained.

They had time, and Kenpachi wanted to take things slow. Food could wait – it wasn't, after all, what he particularly wanted right then and there. And if Jushiro was hungry, Kenpachi had no problem with switching positions and having Jushiro's face smirking up at him from between his legs.

"You're wicked," Jushiro breathed, running his fingers through Kenpachi's hair as Kenpachi slowly pulled the fundoshi off with his teeth, "so, so wicked."

"I haven't heard a compliment come outta ye in weeks, had been tryin' to figure out what was wrong." Kenpachi didn't really remember the last time they had sex, though he had no doubt that it was quite a long time ago. He could feel it, the way Jushiro's soft, pale skin now seemed so fresh to his touch.

Or maybe it was just him and his sudden flare of lust tonight.

He shook his head, clearing his thoughts, and kissed up Jushiro's torso, pressing his mouth fleetingly to Jushiro's hips, stomach, ribs, chest, until he came to settle on his lips. Jushiro took his face with both hands and pulled him down for a chaste kiss, one that tasted like salt – presumably due to the taste-testing he had done in the kitchen prior to Kenpachi's return. Kenpachi licked his bottom lip and nibbled on it, allowing the piercing tang of salt to melt on his tongue.

Jushiro braced his hands on Kenpachi's chest, pushed him back and sat up so he could kiss Kenpachi's stomach. His fingers wandered all over the other's torso until he could no longer control himself and went on to pull the captain's haori off. Kenpachi shrugged off his shihakusho, nerves already tingling as he took a handful of Jushiro's hair, tugged his head back and crushed their lips together. Purposefully, he rubbed the head of his cock against Jushiro's, chuckling through the heated, passionate kiss as a small grunt reached his ears. Then, without another word or an ounce of hesitation, he pushed Jushiro back down, swallowed the expulsion of breath that slipped out upon landing with another kiss, and hooked Jushiro's legs over his shoulders.

It seemed like his idea of "slow and steady" had disappeared from his train of thoughts. Now, Kenpachi had only the mind to ravage Jushiro, to break him like nobody else had or could. With Jushiro lying under him, face flushed, lips parted, the look in his half-lidded green eyes silently begging him to further his exploits, Kenpachi felt like the luckiest shinigami in the Seireitei.

He grinned, a little apologetically, slapping Jushiro's ass. "I'm outta lube, old man. Think ye can take it?"

The look that overcame Jushiro made him laugh. "Why didn't you tell me this earlier?" He was dangerously calm, like a tempest lying in wait for the opportune moment to attack and destroy.

"Don't worry," there was a sly tone in Kenpachi's voice as he bent down to peck Jushiro's lips, "I ain't gonna be rough on ye."

"You take it easy on me, Zaraki, I swe-" But Jushiro was cut off his sentence when Kenpachi flipped him over onto his stomach in one swift motion and inserted two fingers into him. He arched his back on instinct, cringing at the pain as Kenpachi wriggled his way in. He bent over Jushiro, free hand holding onto Jushiro's chest for support.

The wet heat that surrounded his fingers was something that could never be compared; it was sticky, it was tight, and it was suffocating. It was like a drug that Kenpachi could never be free from. He could feel his breathing becoming heavier with each passing moment, and he hadn't even reached his goal yet. He licked the sweat from his bottom lip as he twisted and turned his fingers, taking delight in the way Jushiro writhed and moaned below him.

"All right, ye prick." He withdrew his fingers in haste, receiving an annoyed snap in return. Jushiro turned around to look over his shoulder. Kenpachi flashed him a grin as he grasped his hips with rough, calloused hands, and the next moment, Kenpachi was inside him. Jushiro grasped the quilts, knuckles burning stark white against his skin as he held on like his life depended on it. Kenpachi took it slow, revelling in the heat that enveloped him, at how tight Jushiro was as he tried to take all of Kenpachi in.

"Shit," Kenpachi muttered under his breath when a knock on the door sliced through Jushiro's cries. Jushiro immediately clasped a hand over his mouth and twisted around, eyes wild with panic. For a short while, Kenpachi hadn't a clue of what he should do, but then after having deciphered his partner's frantic eye gestures, he heaved an irritated sigh, pulled out of Jushiro and got off the bed. While Jushiro gathered the quilts to cover himself, Kenpachi made his way to the door and, once he slipped on his discarded hakama, opened it with a flurry of curses ready on the tip of his tongue.

"Ken-chan."

_Fuck. _"The hell ye doin' out here, brat?" Self-consciousness catching up with him, Kenpachi kept a hand on the top of his loose hakama, aware that it could slide down his waist any minute.

Dressed in her pink pyjamas and matching bunny slippers, Yachiru stared up at him through wide, panic-filled eyes. "I can't sleep."

Kenpachi ran his fingers through his hair, blowing out another sigh. "What did I tell ye 'bout nightmares, eh? They ain't real. No matter how many times ye get 'em, they ain't never gonna happen. They're just _dreams_. Bad _dreams_." He leaned against the doorframe and folded his arms across his chest, sure to block out the naked Jushiro from Yachiru's line of sight. "C'mon, big girl like ye shouldn't be scared of things like this anymore."

"I don't think it was a nightmare. Because before I went to bed I could hear noises." She blinked up at him and tilted her head to the side. "Are you and Ukki playin' some kinda game, Ken-chan?"

Kenpachi froze. "Uh…_yeah_. Kinda." He felt like turning into goo, copycatting that crazy ass scientist from the Twelfth, and escaping through the floorboards.

Yachiru's face lit up and she began bouncing on her feet. "I wanna play too, Ken-chan!"

Kenpachi stared down at her, contemplating any and all means to make himself disappear from the room. Her smile was so wide and merry that he wanted to just kick his own crotch – and Jushiro's too, for that matter. He made a mental note to tape the man's mouth shut the next time he planned on fucking the brains out of him.

Finally, refraining from a sigh this time and ignoring the way his cock twitched in impatience, Kenpachi said, "No, Yachiru. It's a game for grown-ups. Ye'll be disqualified if ye play it."


End file.
